Bibuła
by Azul Tigress
Summary: Poland proves that you should never judge a book by it's cover.


A/N: I posted this ages ago on LJ (am thinking of moving my other Hetalia fics over here, too... eventually! :D)

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**Bibuła**

The pen is mightier than the sword. Any fool recognises the truth in that hackneyed adage, for the sword can kill, but words are more powerful than death itself. Words, when planted correctly, take root, grow and spread.

Words can start revolutions.

Words can poison and corrupt.

Words can change the world.

Some believe that the world began with words. Perhaps words could also cause it's end. If the mighty Soviet Union grew from the words of a German philosopher, then surely it could be toppled by the words of another. This is why Russia believes that words, both verbal and written, must be monitored. They are too dangerous to be left unchecked. Censorship is necessary tool of the State.

"It is for your own good, you know," Russia says to Poland as they stand outside the drab, blocky building of raw, unpainted cement.

_Like, what do Commie architects have against the pretty, anyhow?_ Poland asks himself, his nose wrinkling with distaste. He wonders if the homogeneously dull constructions are supposed to crush subversive thought by giving the masses acute depression. Or if it is because any architects who dare stray from the hive-mind's vision of functional concrete cubiformity are then promptly packed off to the gulag.

"I am doing you a service."

Poland stares at Russia's benevolent grin. His gaze briefly flickers back towards Warsaw's snappily named Central Office of Control of the Press, Publications and Performances then returns to Russia.

_God, this idiot, like, totally believes this crap._

"How can you become one with me if you do not think like me?" Russia continues, resting a large gloved hand on Poland's shoulder. "I only want to help you, da?"

"Uhh... yeah..." Poland mumbles, desperately resisting every instinct screaming at him to pull away from Russia's touch and boot him hard in the shins. This is not the time or the place. "For sure."

"So you will stop the _samizdat_? Your silly little unauthorised books and magazines are really testing my patience..."

Since his occupation, by both Germany and Russia, Poland had been smuggling out manuscripts for publication abroad and having translations of classic and contemporary foreign literature smuggled back. It isn't the first time the free press had been driven underground, Poland had been forced to produce prohibited publications during the Partitions, too. Texts were painstakingly copied by hand, typewriter or decrepit printing presses secreted in basements and cellars. Illegal magazines, newspapers and books containing anti-communist poems, essays and fiction were being sold beneath the counter in shops and in private apartments under the omnipresent threat of arrest. But Poland had lost so many liberties already, he is sure as hell not going to surrender his freedom of thought without a fight...

"If that's what you want," Poland says without missing a beat, his smile as bright as a steel knife. _As freakin' if! Then I'll just print more to_ totally_ piss you off_, he adds in the safety of his mind.

It is largely thought that Poland's pretty little head is filled with nothing but sparkles, ponies and shiny rainbows. This is not an opinion that Poland feels the need to contradict, partly because he _is_ rather fond of sparkles, ponies and rainbows, but mostly because it suits him to play the ditz. It means that he is always armed with the element of surprise.

Russia sighs. He, however, does know what Poland is capable of.

"Unfortunately, Poland, I don't believe you. That is why you have left your bosses with no other option but to impose Martial Law on your house. I think they consider this a better alternative to _my_ intervention."

On hearing the all-too familiar rumble of tanks through his streets, Poland's heart freezes over.

"Houses, shops and people will be searched for forbidden materials. Dissenters will be punished." Russia's eyes hold the warmth of a Siberian winter. "Do you understand?"

"Oh yeah, I, like, _totally_ get it." Poland finds it extremely difficult not to punctuate that sentence by spitting in Russia's face, but somehow he manages, keeping his smile firm.

So, there will be more confiscations, arrests and destruction. But the underground press is a Hydra. For every book that is cut down, Poland will print multiple replacements. Partitions didn't finish him off, Nazi occupation didn't and Communism certainly won't either. Germany got himself into a mess because he is comfortable following orders, he likes structure and certainty. Poland got himself into a mess because he doesn't like being told what to do and has an obstinate tendency to question things. It is his weakness, but it is also his strength. He could already feel himself breaking free of Russia's grasp. Surely Russia felt it too.

But Russia has not yet learned that books will always find some way to make their message heard, no matter how many times they are expurgated, banned or burned. In silencing words, he is only making people seek them out, uncover them for themselves, create new words and pass them on. He does not know yet that thoughts, like Nations, are difficult to kill; it is impossible to keep either of them shackled forever.

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Notes

The Central Office of Control of the Press, Publications and Performances (_Główny Urząd Kontroli Prasy, Publikacji i Widowisk_), was created in 1945 and dealt with censorship of the Polish media. It was disbanded in April 1990 after Communism collapsed in Poland.

_Bibuła_, the title of this fic, (lit. 'blotting paper') is the Polish term for _samizdat_, the reproduction and circulation of censored publications, and originated from the time of the Partitions of Poland. During the later years of the Communist regime, it was also called _drugi obieg_ ('second circulation', the implication being that the 'first circulation' was the legal and, therefore, censored version). Although the independent publishing movement was not unique to Poland at this time, and had counterparts in the Soviet Union, Hungary, Czechoslovakia and Bulgaria, Polish underground publishing was on a completely different scale. Attempts to supress _bibuła_ with the introduction of Martial Law in 1981 were unsuccessful and thousands of illegal publications were printed, even during the strictest regulations.


End file.
